


Star Light, Star Bright

by mynameisnemo



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Depression, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-18 14:49:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1432468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisnemo/pseuds/mynameisnemo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Star light, star bright,<br/>The first star I see tonight;<br/>I wish I may, I wish I might,<br/>Have this wish I wish tonight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Star Light, Star Bright

**Author's Note:**

> Set somewhere in the future, but not really any specific time period.

Ian doesn't know where Mickey got the car; if it's stolen or borrowed. He doubts that the owner knows Mickey is using it but he can't really bring himself to care enough to ask. 

The meds make him feel this way sometimes, especially after the doctor has changed them. Kind of flat, almost like a robot, and he understands why Monica always had such a hard time staying on them. He has a hard time too, but it's easier when he has Fiona and Lip and Debbie and Mandy. They all know what to watch for, know when to ask if he's feeling OK or if he needs some cash to fill his script. 

Mickey doesn't ever ask if he's taking his meds. At least not in the blunt words that the others use. 

Ian feels his lips twitch up at that thought, a brief flicker of amusement twisting through him at the thought. No one who has ever met Mickey could accuse him of using his words, blunt or no. 

He looks over at Mickey from where he has his head resting against the car frame, seeing the answering smirk for a second before Mickey turns his attention back to the late afternoon I80 traffic. 

Ian has a weird urge to thank him in that moment. To let all the words spill out of him that will make Mickey give him that 'Why the hell are we talking about this?' look and tighten his hands on the steering wheel. Ian imagines the words bubbling up in him and popping at the surface like bubbles in a glass of beer. The urge makes the last 30 minutes of silence suddenly awkward to him and he reaches over to see what radio stations they can get here, somewhere outside the city, nearly to Joliet. 

“Oh, yeah,” Mickey says suddenly, leaning forward to shove his hand into the backpack sitting on the floorboard next to Ian's sneakers. Ian nearly jumps at the sudden noise and movement but suppresses it. Sometimes Mickey takes it wrong when he flinches and he's feeling too peaceful right now in the warm golden sun to start a fight. 

Mickey rummages for a minute, eyes barely looking over the dashboard but maintaining a straight line anyway, then comes up with a Coke, a pack of cigarettes, and a cassette tape, which he dumps on the seat between them. “Kash and Grab was out of Mountain Dew.” He pulls the tape out of the box and sticks it in the tape deck. 

Ian wonders if it will play, then wonders if the tape deck is the reason Mickey picked this shitty 90's Buick for a road trip. 

“My dad, when we were kids, he'd play this tape sometimes and dance with my mom. Or sometimes he'd put it on when we were hanging out in the yard.”

Ian lets the anecdote go, not wanting to spook Mickey. He doesn't talk about being a kid much and even though Ian still hates Terry he knows that Mick wasn't always terrified of his father murdering him. 

The music is the same kind of classic rock Frank used to listen to and Ian leans his head against the door again, watching the cornfields whip by as the sun sets and thinks about when he was a kid and Frank and Monica used to push the furniture back and dance in the living room. 

\- - - 

“Ian.”

Ian wakes up in the car and it's dark and Mickey's shaking his shoulder. He blinks, trying to remember when he fell asleep, but the last thing he can remember is Mickey singing softly to CCR as the sun went down. “Where are we Mick?”

“Hell if I know but the sign said there's a rest stop up ahead and I need to take a piss.” 

Ian yawns, sitting up straight to stretch his arms as much as he can and realises he needs to pee too. “Yeah, good idea.”

Mickey hums and takes the exit up into the rest area. It's deserted, quiet, and brightly lit. The night air is cold when he steps out of the car and he shivers a little bit before jumping when Mickey slaps him in the face with a hoodie. He looks over and Mickey grins at him, lit up and happy, before trotting off to locate the bathroom. Ian rolls his eyes and follows. 

The bathroom is colder than the air outside but the water warm when he washes his hands and he splashes some on his face before following Mickey back out to the car. 

Instead of getting in, Mickey leans through the passenger side to grab the backpack before closing the door. 

“Mick-”

“Come on.” 

Mickey leads him around the path going behind the bathrooms, out onto the short mowed grass just beyond the lights, then reaches into the backpack and pulls out a blanket and a six pack of Blue Moon. 

As Ian watches, Mickey spreads the blanket on the grass. 

“Fuck, I forgot the burgers.” Mickey starts to head back to the car but Ian catches his arm. 

“What, are we having a picnic?”

Mickey looks up but doesn't quite meet his eyes. “Thought you might like something quiet, get away for a little bit.”

Ian breathes in, tasting the cool fresh night air and hearing the crickets chirping, cars swishing by on the highway, his and Mickey's breathing. Suddenly overwhelmed by affection he leans down, surprising Mickey with a kiss. He thinks Mickey might push him away; he's still not much for PDA, even if they are totally alone; but Mickey just puts his arms around Ian's waist, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. 

They make out standing up for a while until Ian remembers the blanket and pulls Mickey down to lay on it. 

\- - - 

They're laying, half-rolled in the blanket, passing a cigarette and a beer back and forth, when Ian feels the post orgasmic haze start to wear off and turns his head to look at Mickey. “What's all this for?”

“Told ya, I thought you might like to get away for a bit and you and me both had the next couple days off, so...” He lets the sentence fade out and passes the cigarette back, then blows a lungful of smoke up into the air. “I've never been out of Chicago before.”

They've never had many firsts between them, growing up fast and jaded in the Southside. First kisses, first fucks, first loves and dates and people to care about and care about them all have different names and dates and locations. But Ian knows Mickey, knows all the words he's not saying, all the words he still has trouble saying, has trouble hearing. Ian knows they are two boys from the south side of Chicago, although they've grown up now. Knows they will always be poor and scrambling to make it through the next day in the heads even if they have their own places and jobs and even some money put away now. Knows that Mickey will always be a man of actions, not words, and that he'll always feel too much or too little despite the medication, and that sometime they'll get back up, get in the car and drive back down the highway, back to his sisters and brothers and their chaotic lives and to Mandy and the brothers Milkovich, even through Mandy is the only one who still acknowledges that Mickey is still alive. 

Which reminds him. “Hey, Mick?” 

Mickey hums, sounding half asleep, curled up against Ian because, of course, he remembered a hoodie for Ian but he didn't grab one for himself. 

“Did you steal the car?”

“Fuck no, I bought it with that bonus I got last month. Debbie helped me find it so you don't have to walk home in the snow this winter.”

Ian laughs, which makes Mickey laugh too, then laughs all the harder when he sees a shooting star streak through the sky right over their heads, reminding him of hot summer nights and shotgunning beer. He thinks about beautiful nights and being completely at peace and decides to make a wish, though he doesn't tell Mickey. 

He wishes that, whatever else may come, they have many more nights like this one.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after I finished marathoning season 3 but before I started season 4. It's the first fanfic I've written in over a decade, so 'scuse the rustiness. 
> 
> This is what comes from watching the first three seasons of Shameless US in less than a week and then spending a Saturday listening to Fake Empire by The National on repeat.
> 
> Incidentally, the song I have Mickey singing to is Cotton Fields by Creedence Clearwater Revival. I couldn't find a way to work it in but in my personal headcanon that is one of the lullabies mom Milkovich used to sing to her kids before they got older and things started to get bad.
> 
> Edit: and I've made a whole mix tape to go with this fic, courtesy of my love for classic rock. Listen to it here: [Star Light, Star Bright](http://8tracks.com/mynameisnemo/star-light-star-bright)


End file.
